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~Kezi

Being roused from sleep at an ungodly hour is perhaps the worst feeling to ever experience. A sharp yell and a tight grip bring me back to the surface, expelling the last remnants of a blissful dream.

All I see is darkness, but I hear frantic movement and distressed breathing.

“Kezzi, get up!” a voice yells in my ear, yanking me from my bed.

 “What’s going on?” I groan. It’s Avia, my caregiver, my teacher, my friend. She never allows a situation to be out of her control, so hearing this evokes instant fear within me. This is serious. I can faintly see her red hair through a fringe of darkness, her vice like grip on my wrist allows her to lead me through my own room, stumbling over boxes I had just unpacked clothes from.

“Is this another test?” I question, as she leads me to my own window. I hear the scrape of it as she shoves it open. The bite of the ice tinted wind follows after. “I’m starting to get sick of these.”

 “Quiet,” Avia breathes. She sticks her head out the window, then back in again. “They will hear you.”

My blood runs cold. “They?”

She doesn’t respond, clambering out the window. She does it swiftly and adeptly, her feet landing in the snow. She’s good at this. She is trained for this. It’s why she is my protector, why they hired her. When she reaches through, I hesitate.

 “Can I pack something?” I ask warily. Leaving without any belongings seems despicable. I’ve done it before, and it’s like tearing myself from my home. A home that doesn’t exist.